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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24999118">Beauty and the Beast (A Retelling)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLUG_CAT624/pseuds/SLUG_CAT624'>SLUG_CAT624</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Obitine Week 2020 [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Beauty and the Beast (1991), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst, Author has no real plan, Blood and Injury, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fantasy, Gen, Mandalorian Culture, Maul playing the part of the Beast, No Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fill, Satine playing the part of Belle, Suggestions welcome, The Kingdom of Mandalore instead of a little French village, Wartime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:08:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24999118</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLUG_CAT624/pseuds/SLUG_CAT624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kingdom of Mandalore is at war.  After the royal family is assassinated, Duchess Satine Kryze is put on the throne until Prince Korkie comes of age.  As Mandalore’s situation becomes more and more despite, she is forced to attempt to recruit an old ally, the Sith, in the form of Lord Maul.  However when she arrives at his stronghold, her attention is caught by Maul’s slave, Ben, who may be more than he appears…</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Satine Kryze, Satine Kryze &amp; OCs, Satine Kryze &amp; Pre Vizsla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Obitine Week 2020 [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Gen and Aro Prompts (Any fandom)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prelude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguefaerie/pseuds/roguefaerie">roguefaerie</a>  in the  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/GenAndAroPrompts">GenAndAroPrompts</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This will be the beginning of a retelling of Disney’s ‘Beauty and the Beast’ for the last 2 days of Obitine week and for the prompt from roguefaerie “Any fairytale fandom retold without romance…” in ‘Gen and Aro Prompts (Any fandom)’.  Because for kriff’s sake Obi and Satine can be happy together without romance or sex.  Maul, of course, will still make an appearance, and lord knows Satine filling in for Belle and Mandalore for the little french village will change things… and don’t expect talking candlesticks or ‘Be Our Guest’, as much as we love them.  Happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Prelude: Sacrifice</h1><p>The cold winter wind whipped across the rooftops as Satine leap down onto the balcony where Ben lay, head back, gazing at the stars as blood crept across the unyielding granite upon which he landed.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Di’kutla jetii</em>,” she growled, and she peeled off her breastplate and arm guards and pulled at the gold gown, and the delicately woven fabric tearing under her nails and she stared at the gaping wound Maul had left in her friend.  She cut away the battered tunic he wore and pressed the fabric down, hard.  Ben let out a little gasp of pain and his eyelids fluttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Satine…”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t speak, <em>atin.</em>  You will live.”  She felt her brows furrowing, hoping that if she got angry enough her wrath alone would stop Manda from taking him.  “That should have been <em>my</em> wound, stupid Jedi.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your people need you,” he sucked in a rattling breath that turned into a weak cough, and Satine gently pulled him upright against her own body, trying to relieve the pain.</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head furiously.  “Korkie will be of age in a few months.  I could have taken you with me.  I <em>should</em> have taken you with me.  We could have run away and lived on the east shore-”</p><p> </p><p>“-And Maul would have never stopped hunting for me.”  He smiled, and blood dripped out of his mouth.  Satine wiped it away, staining her fingers.  “Domestic life never would have suited you anyway.”  Suddenly he shivered violently.  “It’s warm…”  His eyes grew glazed.  “Why isn’t it cold anymore, Qui-Gon?”</p><p> </p><p>Satine felt her tears finally spill down her cheeks.  “You will be safe, now, Ben.”</p><p> </p><p>“Obi-Wan,” the word is barely audible.</p><p> </p><p>“Obi-Wan,” she repeated, and her knight smiled, teeth blood stained and glistening red. She pushed her dagger into his hand.  There was one last rattling breath, that seemed to last both an eternity, and no time at all, and then he was gone.  “May Manda guard your soul.”</p><p> </p><p>“And may you have good hunting, swift flying, and shelter when you sleep,” a voice finished behind her, and Satine stared at the stocky form of her sister.</p><p> </p><p>“You came,” she said numbly.</p><p> </p><p>The red head nodded.  “Not quick enough.”</p><p> </p><p>“You came,” she said again, and she let her little sister wrap her arms around her for the first time in a decade, and cried.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 1: The Beginning</strong>
</p><p>The Great Hall was a huge room with long tables and vaulted ceilings.  Situated in the heart of Castle Sundari, the room had few windows like most of the building, giving it the feeling of a vast cave, along with the solid grey stone that the castle was built out of.  Like all of Sundari, its foremost purpose was for war- even here in the heart of the castle, there were barely visible acoloves high in the walls for archers, and unabashed meter tall walls around the main space and separating the High Table to act as battlements.  The hall lacked any unnecessary decor and glamor that might impede any battle fought there, and it was simply lit by torches like the rest of the castle- no glamorous chandeliers as one might expect for such a room.</p><p> </p><p>The Duchess of Mandalore sat at the far left end of the High Table.  It was uncomfortable, she mused, being the only soul in this vast room.  Mandalore had been at war for months now- the Mandal’ore and his <em>cyare</em> and <em>ad</em> had gone to the front lines to lead the war, leaving the castle in the Duchess’s and their youngest son, Korkie, hands. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Ba’vodu</em>, Minister Visla wants to meet with you,” her nephew spoke behind her.  Face still rounded with baby fat, in a few months he would be thirteen, old enough to take his vows and he would join his family on the warfront, leaving just Satine to rule an empty castle.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Korkie.  You are welcome to go down to the kitchens and eat there.  I had the cook leave some sweet cakes for you.”  Eyes brightening, he ran down the hall, whooping with delight, revealing his true age and not the maturity that the Old Ways and royalty had forced upon him.  Melancholy, Satine stood, and started down the hall towards the Prime Minister’s office.</p><p> </p><p>She knocked on the door, and it was opened by one of the few <em>verd </em>that had remained behind.  The helmeted head nodded slightly, acknowledging her, before straightening and becoming a statue once more.</p><p> </p><p>The Prime Minister was bent over his desk, blond haired and blue eyes like herself and most of Mandalore.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Duchess, thank you for coming.”  He looked unusually grim.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.  How can I help, Pre?”  His brow furrowed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid tragedy has struck on the warfront.  The Mandal’ore, his wife, and eldest son are dead.  May Manda guard their souls.”</p><p> </p><p>“And may they have good hunting, swift flying, and shelter when they sleep,” she replied tonelessly, head spinning at the news.  <em>No!  It can’t be true!  Devvar is the greatest warrior of his generation- how-</em></p><p> </p><p>The Prime Minister looked hesitant.  “Duchess-”</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head furiously, walking and staring through the small window along the south wall of the office.  She stared at the rolling hills of grssses.  Stared further at the farms in the distance, watching the specks of the labors moving though the fields.  She knew those were slaves who worked those fields- all the men and woman Mando’ade that could be spared were out battling the Jedi.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t know much about the light-sword wielding sorcerers, but she knew that her people had battled them hundreds of years ago, and it was only a matter of time until they clashed again.  When the war had begun nearly a year ago, she had been swept up in the bloodlust like all her people.  Twenty-nine, highborn, and a skilled warrior, she joined the first group shipping out-</p><p> </p><p>-and all hell broke loose.  When she alone was left standing in her battalion in a field weeping blood, she couldn’t do it.  That was when she was sent back to Sundari to rule in an empty castle over fields of slaves.  Branded a coward by her people, she was lost.</p><p> </p><p>“Duchess… until Prince Korkie is of age, <em>you</em> are the ruler of Mandalore.  And we are losing the war.  Badly.”  He joined her at the window.  “You need to-”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”  She stared at the mountains in the distance.  “The Sith.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.  I cannot offer an escort- we are stretched too thin as it is-”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“I understand.”  She would have to dawn her <em>basker</em> once more</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In case anyone was curious, the greeting/saying/death ritual thing of “May Manda guard your soul/May you have good hunting, swift flying, and shelter when you sleep” is very much inspired by Warriors by Erin Hunter- my childhood lol.  In case it sounded familiar to anyone.  I cannot take credit for that beautiful idea and phrasing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <span>Two: The Journey</span>
</h1><p>She had been too lost in her own thoughts to recognize the silhouette conversing with the stablehand until too late.  Adenn Vizsla smirked at her, eyes cold and silver blond hair gleaming.</p><p> </p><p>“You may be an <em>ad</em>, Santy, but I’m willing to forgive that.”  He leers at her, gaze lingering on her curves and lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Forget it, Vizsla.”  She manages to hold her tongue from saying anything else- like how <em>he</em> was more of a child than her, and the only reason he had been able to stay in the lavish palace and  out of the fighting was his father Pre’s position.  She held her tongue only because she respected and befriended the older man, and her reputation couldn’t take any more hits- <em>right now,</em> at least.  She wasn’t stupid, but she knew once she had secured her people’s respect, there would be nothing preventing her from lashing out her touge at the arrogent welp for time to time.</p><p> </p><p>Brushing past him, she headed to the end of the stalls to Kote, the large war-horse that she had grown up with.  Huffing softly, he snuffled at her, happy she came early for her visit today.  She gave him a carrot, then began to brush his caramel coat.  Before long, Vizsla grew tired of harassing the stable boy and sauntered away.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I help you, Duchess?” the stableboy, Cuyan, asked.  Unlike Visla, Cuyan was deserving of his name.  A fire had burned through his village as a youngling, leaving his face deformed and one ear unsalvageable.  His parents were killed, and he had ended up in the care of the royal family, to be a part of the guard when he was old enough.  For now, the nine year old cared for the coveted Mandalorian battle horses, and he was quite apt at it.</p><p> </p><p>“No thank you, Cuyan.”  Satine smiled as she fastened her saddle on Kote.  He sat against the wall of the stall, finished with his morning duties, and content to watch her.  Normally it wouldn’t have bothered her, but…  She glanced at the entrance to the storage, and decided the boy was more trustworthy then half the men in the castle, and without reluctance crossed the stable with Kote and unlocked the hevey doors, revealing the gleaming horse armor.  She heard Cuyan gasp, but didn’t comment as she settled the <em>basker</em> on Kote.  The horse pricked it’s ears with excitement.</p><p> </p><p>“I need some time to bring down my gear.  Can you watch him?” Satine asked Cuyan, and he nodded, eyes wide.</p><p> </p><p>Within the half hour she returned, in full <em>basker</em> herself, and a few packs to strap to Kote.  After she had saddled up, the little boy clasped his fist to his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“May Manda guard your soul,” Cuyan said solemnly, and Satine repeated the gesture.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” She touched her heels to Kote, and they started off, trotting towards the woods.</p>
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